Aishiteru
by xX3B.r.o.k.e.n.3Xx
Summary: YAOI. When a boy with no future and a boy with no past come together, the result is catastrophic. A tale of love, lies, deception and death. (Full Summary, Ratings and Warnings Inside) Mostly Boomer-centric.
1. P r o l o g u e

**_Summary:_ Boomer knew love worked in funny ways. And he knew death did, too. Having to decide between the two was one of the hardest decisions of his short, 16 years of life. But of course, coming from a family of psychotic and cold-hearted brothers and an abusive father, death would've been a logical choice for him. He was so close to fulfilling that choice until he met Beck. This all would've ended that night, on the bridge; the same bridge that was a solution to his never-ending problems, but something in Beck's eyes kept him fighting. It made him want to see where his downtrodden life would take him. Something in Beck's eyes made him want to try...**

**_Summary:_ Beck knew that he was not good. He knew that the longer he hid from his past, the longer he would have to keep up with his fake life; the life that was speeding up ahead and leaving him behind in the dust of lies and truth. The last thing he needed was to get an innocent young boy into the mix. And even worse, fall for him. **

**This is a yaoi story, and a bonus story based off of characters from my story Ruined. Don't like don't read. Language, violence, gory scenes, implied situations and scenes, suicidal references, character deaths.**(Jeez, that's a lot!) ** Rating probably will change. Read and review!**

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><p>In the end it wouldn't matter.<p>

Even if he ditched school that day, it would all be for nothing. They would still find some way to pester him out of his mind, regardless of where he was. And he couldn't help but smile at their determination. If he calculated this all correctly, he would have exactly 1 minute and 18 seconds before they arrived. If he could manage to put away and take out all the things he needed from his locker and vacate the premises within that minute, he would be home free, at least just for that day.

Boomer fled the classroom the millisecond the bell rung. He had no time to waste, not an ounce of it. He was at his locker in 13 seconds. He got his combination and rushed to open to locker door, almost dropping the lock in the process. He shoved his books in; neat and tidy was not an option today. Without missing a beat he lunged for his backpack and yanked it out, only to be shocked and disappointed when it didn't budge. It got hooked onto the inside of the locker.

Of course.

Boomer dropped his things loudly to the floor, not paying any mind to the curious stares from the people in the hall. Boomer had just gotten his backpack out of the cramped space when someone stood beside his locker, simply leaning against the wall and being calm and collected. He had a muscular tone, wide and bulky shoulders, and a deep voice when he spoke.

"Thought you were gonna be fast enough?" He asked. Checking his watch with a sigh, Boomer looked grimly at his error. 7 seconds past his goal. He failed again, and he was going to have to pay up.

"Actually, I was kind of hoping that I would, Michael." He admitted softly. "Oh, well that sucks." Michael replied, dragging him by the arms.

His grip was really tight, leaving red marks on Boomer's upper arm, but Boomer had gotten used to this over the past few months. It only hurt so much to him.

"Okay, Blondie, let's make this short, I've got better things to do." Michael snapped upon bringing him to the boys locker room, where his friends awaited their arrival. They all laughed at the petite blonde boy who didn't bother to struggle out of his offender's hold.

"If you have better things to do, why are you even wasting your breath beating me up today? Am I **that** important to you?" Boomer asked sheepishly, knowing that it was still out of his place to talk. Quite frankly, he didn't care.

"You wish, dumbass." Boomer earned a punch in the face; nothing new.

"I'm gonna be generous, since I somewhat admire your confidence in the way you talk to me. You know what I'm capable of, so you are very gutsy. I'll let you go," Michael said, letting go of Boomer, whose lip was busted and bleeding. Again, nothing new. Boomer's face lit up. Was he really going to let him go with just a scratch? Was this a miracle? "I'll let you go," he repeated, "with a 15 second head start."

Nope. It wasn't a miracle. At least he added an extra 5 seconds this time around. "1," Boomer ran out of the school in a heartbeat.

He sprinted across the street and ran into the miniature deli, since he was good friends with the owner, Dylan, and hid. Not a second sooner, Michael and his pals ran outside the school building, searching frantically for him. After a while he watched as they ran right by the deli, heading towards downtown Townsville, where he lived.

Boomer sighed and stood from his crouched position, turning to Dylan. Dylan was a man in his thirties, with short, scruffy raven hair and a little bit of stubble forming around his jaw-line. His piercing green eyes were the same color as his sweatshirt, and he sat in the corner behind the cashier, polishing a jar. "Rough day today, Boomer?" He inquired. Boomer nodded, his breath still uneven from the mini marathon he had just run. "You really ought to do something about them always harassing you like this."

Again, Boomer gave a slight nod. "I have, but no one does anything about it. They just tell me to ignore them." "How are you supposed to ignore being beat up?" Boomer shot the store owner a warning glare. "Gee, thanks. I never thought about that." He mumbled sarcastically. Raising his arms defensively, Dylan got up, swinging his arm around the troubled teenager. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, geez!" swiftly grabbing a napkin, he skipped over to the freezer and poured some ice into it, wrapping it neatly and handing it to Boomer. "Here, that should stop the swelling." He stated, dabbing it on Boomer's lip and telling his to hold it there. He mouthed a 'thank you' while licking the remaining blood from his lips. Dylan smirked; a smirk that could almost pass off for a smile.

Dylan Bowden. He was like a father to Boomer, not that he didn't have a father…well, actually, his father wasn't much of a father. He was pretty much an older and nastier version of Michael, and his best friends/drinking buddies/the ones that wouldn't bail him out of jail because they were probably in jail with him, were Michael's older and nastier friends. So Boomer was basically looking into his future; a never-ending pit of pain. He winced at the thought.

Dylan Bowden, on the other hand, was both the mother and father he wished he had. He offered him good advice, like a dad should. He helped him in his time of need, like a dad could, and he continued to love him unconditionally, like a mom would. _He _created a happy ending, as unattainable as it was for him. Whenever he'd get upset he'd immediately go to Dylan Bowden for help. It was like his catch-phrase.

Having trouble at school? Go to Dylan Bowden!

Need a tutor/guidance counselor? Go to Dylan Bowden!

Want a real family that accepts you for who you are, and won't turn their backs on you?

Or make you suffer?

Or abuse you both emotionally and physically?

Go to Dylan Bowden!

"_If peace had a name, it would be Dylan". _

Boomer smiled at his stupid, yet somewhat true, thought. Suddenly an aroma filled his nostrils, halting his train of thought. He looked down at the tray, wrapped nicely in tinfoil and packed inside of a plastic bag with the **Zellers **sign printed on either side of it. "Here, fresh hot apple pie, on the house." Dylan winked at him. He grabbed the bag and held it up to his chest, being careful not to crush the pastry inside. "I know it's your favorite." Dylan added. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"I'll stop by tomorrow in the morning before school- hopefully before _they_ get a hold of me first." He told him, making his way to the exit/entrance. "Okay, good luck, buddy." He wished to him.

For a quick second, Boomer had no worries as he calmly made his way outside. That is, until he noticed a group of boys strutting over in his direction. He figured they hadn't seen him, so he took a hasty detour and snuck through the back alley of the deli.

His estimate was right; he heard no footsteps following behind him as he sauntered through the back alley. As he made his getaway, he smirked. _"Home free," _he thought as he smelled the delightful apple scent once more. Paying no mind to the world ahead, he crashed right into a person walking in the opposite direction. Unfortunately he ended up dropping his pie, and falling with it.

The smile was wiped clean off his face as he put his left hand behind the rest of his body to use as a post to hold himself up. Before he could push himself up to his feet and apologize to whomever he knocked into, a hand extended itself in front of his face. Boomer stared at it in shock and fear. Was it about to hit him? He looked up to come face to face with a pair of apologetic eyes and a matching smile. "Sorry about that, I didn't see you there." A boy about his age, with wavy blonde hair a shade darker than his own, towered over him. His stone colored eyes stared him down, as if boring holes into Boomer's soul would help him gain something. It wouldn't, so why was he staring him down like his life depended on it?

Oh, the questions Boomer would never get the answers to.

The hand was a helping hand? For once in his life, Boomer felt something he'd never felt before- a feeling of protection that he hadn't even felt with Dylan, and coming from a complete stranger. Glancing up at his face once more, he slowly started to recognize it more. Not a complete stranger, he had seen him at school. In fact, he was in his pre-calculus, AP Science and homeroom, and he always sat two tables in front of him during Lunch period every day. He took his hand, and was pulled to his feet.

"No, I'm sorry, it was my fault," Boomer stuttered, pink from embarrassment. "Hey, haven't I seen you in school somewhere before?" The boy suddenly asked, grabbing Boomer's full attention. "Um, yeah…?"

He replied, although it came out like a question. "I recognize you. You're in some of my classes." He continued to voice Boomer's thoughts. "Um, yeah…?" He repeated, earning a smile from the taller boy. He just continued looking at him, not sure what he should do next. "Hey, is this yours?" The tall one asked, reaching over to grab the plastic bag. "Oh, um…" "I know that smell anywhere. Apple pie from Dylan's?" He asked, handing Boomer the bag. He took it a smile slightly. "It's my favorite, nice to see I'm not alone with that opinion." Boomer smiled brighter. For the first time he'd met someone who didn't walk away from him as soon as possible. "Well, anyways, sorry for bumping into you like that." He concluded. "Oh, no, it was my fault, sorry." Boomer assured him. "No, it was me I wasn't paying attention." "Well I wasn't either." In the end they settled for both of them being at fault.

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><p>As the two said a slightly awkward goodbye, the darker haired boy turned to leave, until he was pushed by a more muscular being. Michael found had found Boomer, and he had no chance to run.<p>

Shouting some profanities at Michael after being pushed, the taller male noticed that a gang was threateningly approaching a now cowering Boomer. _"They don't look like they're going to give to give that kid a hug…" _He thought to himself. Out of reflex, he grabbed Michael's arm just before he had time to connect it to Boomer's jaw, and shoved him harder than he was shoved earlier. "Hey, you loser, who do you think you are?" Michael was mad, mad at the fact that he couldn't find Boomer, and when he did, some random person was stopping him from doing what he enjoyed the most.

"Who the hell do you think_ you_ are?" He snapped back. "_I_, for a fact, know my place," he stated firmly as he shoved him further into the empty street. "You don't seem to." Michael snarled at him, glaring daggers at the blonde. "Whatever." He spat, gesturing to his partners to give him back up.

"Let's get out of here. –Deal with that loser later." He said, pointing back at Boomer, who was staring at the other taller male in shock and amusement.

And just like that, they left. Boomer couldn't have been more relieved.

"What was that all about?" Boomer was, once again, thrown out of his train of thought. "Oh, just some guys who, for some reason, don't like me." He replied truthfully. In all honesty, he truly had no idea why they hated him. They just did.

"Thank you, you're a life saver." Boomer thanked him happily. After all, if it wasn't for this, '_tall mysterious guy'_ he would be eating a buffet of knuckle sandwiches. He had no choice but to be grateful.

"Hey, you want me to walk you home, just for safety? I really don't like seeing people that I know getting hurt, even if I don't really know that that well." It was a nice offer, and it would keep him protected, so why not? "Um, yeah…?" The tall boy smiled widely.

As they started towards downtown Townsville, Boomer had that feeling again, that feeling of pure protection and safety. It made him uncomfortable, and it made him turned pink again. Beck, upon seeing him blush, simply smirked after him.

Then he said the four words that would change both his life and Boomer's forever;

"My name is Beck."

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><p><strong><em>-A-i_S-H-i_T-E-R-U- pg1_Prologue_<em>**


	2. A c q u a i n t a n c e

Boomer approached his home. He got out his keys, opened the door and entered. But before he could make it to the living room, the sound of breaking glass stopped him. He knew what was happening, and he knew what was about to happen to him. Yelling and shouting could be heard; a deep, powerful male voice roared, and a soft, whimpering female voice mewed back. Younger male voices were heard; both on the females' side of the argument, and they screeched back profanities. This was how it started. This was how it _always_ started.

The smell of alcohol was overwhelming; it made Boomer sick to his stomach. He knew why this was happening.

His father was drunk again, and he'd have to pay for it.

Boomer thought this was one of his best days, even despite what was going to happen. His dad yelled incoherently, stumbled out of the kitchen with a bottle in his hand, stormed over to the youngest of the family with the glass bottle still in hand, then with one last inhuman growl, he whipped the solid glass straight at Boomer's head.

It didn't hit its target, fortunately. He was _too_ disorientated to have that ability, Boomer was lucky for that.

Suddenly his dad lunged at him, throwing him head first into the wall.

After punching him square in the face at least four times, he stood up, breathing heavily from rage and exhaustion, he stood from Boomer's half-conscious body and simply said, "I'll deal with you later."

Then he just walked away.

"_He'll deal with me later…" _Boomer thought wearily with a half-assed smile, as he slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

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><p>"<em>My name is Beck." The tall boy said as they began to walk towards Boomer's house. Boomer smiled softly, mostly due to a strange and uncomfortable feeling. But the feeling passed as quickly as it came. "I-I'm Boomer." He mumbled softly. He was wondering why his heart was beating so irregularly, or why he was feeling nervous and shy, or why he was stumbling over his words and blushing like a tomato. But he shook it off, labeling the reason for these happenings as making a new friend for the first time. Yes, that was why he was acting weird<em>

"_Well then, Boomer, why don't those guys like you?" He asked, looking at him with concern. Boomer drew a deep breath, trying to think up a logical response, a logical reason. _

_But to no avail. _

"_Um, to be honest, I don't know." He looked down at his feet, a strange feeling over sadness washing over him. "I don't know." Boomer whispered. Beck continued to look at him, an unidentifiable emotion flickering behind his stone colored eyes. After an awkward moment of silence (and staring) Beck took a deep breath. It sounded like frustration. "Well, whatever the reason is, I hope they don't do any real damage in the future." "Don't worry, they will." Boomer admitted sadly. Beck made a low noise, sounding upset. "I just wish they won't, but you seem to know them more than I…" He told him. _

_Boomer's response was a sad smile. _

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><p>"<em>Well, it looks like this is your stop." Beck said as he gestured to Boomer's front door. He lived in the school zone area, where everyone that went to M. T. High was basically forced to live. Even Beck lived in the area, just further away from Boomer. That's why they've never seen each other. "Thanks, for helping me." He exclaimed in a friendly matter. Beck just grinned and gave a small wave. "Don't mention it-"He stated kindly while turning to walk away, but he then stopped himself. "-Actually, do mention it when those bullies come around. Let 'em know that I'm around, that should keep you out of trouble." He smirked slyly. Boomer let out a chuckle, somewhere inside of him he knew that the bullies wouldn't back down even if he had a bodyguard. "Bodyguard?" Boomer restated in his mind. He felt that notion was a bit too sudden. He knocked himself out of la-la land to respond to his latest acquaintance, "thanks, but I don't think that's enough to get those guys to back down." He admitted.<em>

_Beck only laughed. "It will if it's true." He stated suggestively, raising an eyebrow anxiously. Then, in a joking matter he snickered, saying "I'll be your bodyguard." Boomer's happy façade fade for a brief moment. _

_Was this boy really going to help him, a fragile weak little dweeb that he just met?_

_Boomer couldn't help but think this. And that's when he finally took the time to compare himself to Beck, standing across from him on his doorstep. _

_Boomer was small, lanky, his hair seemed like he just got out of bed, even when he bothered to brush it. His clothing was bland; never more than a pair of baggy pants and a tight, seemingly unbreathable (yet totally comfortable) t-shirt or turtle neck. He barely ever wore graphic tees, but he has worn skinny jeans… In other words, he wasn't the best dressed at his school or the trend setter. He was pretty much the most ignored person in school, by students and teachers alike. And when he was not ignored, he was abused by them. _

_Beck, on the other hand, was tall, in fit shape for a boy his age, not big and bulky, but not noodle-thin either, his hair looked soft and lively and full of color, and his eyes were the same, though they held a mysterious emotion behind them. His clothes were bright and graphic, filled with colors Boomer has never even seen in his own closet, and he seemed to have a permanent smile on his face, as if life cared for him with its own life. He looked like he would hang out with popular kids and no one else. He probably did, which is why he lived on the other block where all the popularity resided. That's why he was nowhere near Boomer. That's why they would never talk to each other had they not met the way they did earlier. _

_In all honesty, Boomer felt lucky. As if crashing into Beck was like being hit in the face with a horseshoe that had a four-leaf clover attached to it under a rainbow next to a pot of gold. _

_It was the ultimate luck just because he had the opportunity to bump into one of the "perfections" of the school…_

…_And Boomer couldn't accept it. He didn't have the right to. _

"_Thanks for the offer, Beck, but I'd rather not drag you down with me. I don't want you to get hurt over something as stupid as this." He said while gesturing to himself. Beck's smile wavered, but barely dissolved. He stopped and looked at his feet, sticking his hand into his pocket. He looked back up with a smirk, a devious expression. "Better me than you…?" It sounded a bit like a question, as if he was asking for Boomer's opinion. Boomer really didn't want Beck to get hurt by these jerks for no reason, Boomer believing that he himself wasn't a good enough thing to fight for. But Beck seemed reluctant to give up. _

_Boomer wasn't sure of how to respond, saying 'yes' would be impudent. So he did the one thing that he was good at; giving thanks for what he didn't deserve. _

"_Thank you, Beck." He finally began as he beamed in Beck's direction. Beck smiled back. "See you at school." He saluted, finally taking his leave. Boomer opened the door and walked inside only to be met with the sound of breaking glass._

_And he stopped dead in his tracks, knowing what would happen next. _

"_Doesn't matter," he announced out loud to himself. _

"_I had a good day, today." _

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><p><strong><strong><em>-A-i_S-H-i_T-E-R-U- pg2_Acquaintance_<em>****

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><p><strong>YEAH! New chapter up! I hope I get more viewers as this story progresses. I know it seems like it's all about an OC and Boomer, but it's not. This story contains the following:<strong>

**The RowdyRuff Boys**

**The PowerPuff Girls**

**Team X Minus (From my trilogy, _Ruined_)**

**Various PowerPuff Girls characters (such as Molly, Mike, Elmer, Ms. Bellum)**

**And many more! It's just a story that is centered on Beck and Boomer; there is also other OCs as well.**

**Please read and review, this story is done simply for readers' enjoyment, if you haven't read any of the _Ruined_ series, you don't have to read that to understand this since it's a spin-off based on the happenings of the story. So, if you would like to, check that story out, too. _Ruined_ is the first book,_ Shattered_ is the second. Hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. And, yeah!**

**Reviews are much enjoyed!**

**BYE!**


	3. B r u i s e s

**Hello guys! I hope you are enjoying, this story will get really sad as it progresses, so if you're a crier, I suggest you grab some tissues for this story just in case some chapters and parts get a bit too much! It's not sad now, but it definitely will be! I just figured I should say that as a sort of head's up for all you more sensitive ones! Again, so you know, this is a YAOI STORY, so there will be scenes that some of you may not like for your own reasons. I completely understand, but if it's a big issue for you, I suggest you don't read because this is yaoi-centric with Boomer and Beck. (Remember! It contains all the other people as well, everyone will have their own chapters too. It's not JUST Boomer and Beck.) **

**Thank you and enjoy!**

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><p>His little nap was over, and he felt it was time to move from his spot on the wall in the middle of the living room, and into his bathroom where he could see the new scar on his face. Boomer slowly stood up, hearing the satisfying pop of his bones shifting back into place after they were uncomfortably pushed into an awkward position. He made his way weakly to the upstairs bathroom, tripping on a few steps as he swarmed in and out of consciousness. He made it to his destination after what seemed like a million years, and opened the door fully, not caring about the fact that it bounced off the wall with a loud clang, and he leaned over the sink, admiring himself in the mirror.<p>

A large purple circle was starting to appear around his right eye and he's lip was swollen from his earlier run on with Michael and friends. He stared long and hard, processing where every bruise on his body came from. A yellow splotch, just below his left shoulder, that came from being shoved into a locker by some kid at school for "being in his way..." Boomer voiced out loud. He took notice of a dark spot on his stomach as he lifted his shirt to view more. He didn't remember where that was from. He looked at his arms. They were decorated in cuts and reddened skin. He knew exactly where those came from.

"Boomer, what are you doing?" His older brother said. Boomer nearly jumped out of his scarred skin. Butch just laughed in his face at the sight. He had actually started shaking. "What the hell's wrong with you, dude? You're acting like a just tried to kill you or something." He added.

Boomer glared at him, making his laughter cease. "Hey, don't look at me like that, douche, I have a reason to laugh at your face." Boomer looked down to the floor, backing away from him and kneeling against the sink. Butch moved in closer, trapping him against the sink. He then cupped his chin with his hands, drawing his face closer, forcing him to look up. Boomer looked at him in a mix of fear and nervousness, wondering what he was going to do next. His cheeks turned pink on instinct, and he could only stand helplessly as his brother moved in on him. He stopped when their faces were just inches apart.

"Hey, come on now, Boom. You gonna tell Butchy what's wrong? Or am I just gonna have to make you?" He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and venom, but it was as if he was expecting something. _"Well, obviously he's expecting something; an answer!" _His thoughts snapped at him. Boomer, who knew very well what Butch was referring to, avoided answering, as well as playing stupid. "Dad." He said blankly. Wishing that Butch would let it slide. But no, his requested were never taken into consideration. Ever.

"Don't play stupid with me!" Butch snarled and pushed him hard against the sink. He winced, knowing that there'd be a bruise there eventually. Butch got closer, if that was possible without them touching. "You know what I'm talking about?" He glared straight into his azure eyes. "I walked home with someone." He replied truthfully, though he wasn't about to go into full detail, to be honest, he didn't know what to tell him. "Who?" He asked the one question Boomer wasn't ready to hear. He looked him straight in the eyes, his emerald green eyes. He could see an emotion within them, but he didn't know what it was that Butch felt inside. Butch was glaring at him, like he wanted to murder him right then and there. He was waiting, waiting for his answer, waiting to hear the words pool out of Boomer's mouth. Perhaps he was waiting for a reason to hurt him, he seemed like he was angry. So Boomer thought of a meaningful response, and spoke quietly, not wanting to say it loud enough for him to catch any hidden emotion behind his voice. "A friend." He mumbled quietly.

Butch still heard him. "A friend, you say?" He said suggestively, causing Boomer to whip his head up to look at him. But that action only made him want to look back down again, Butch was really close. He started blushing, staring at his face. Butch caught this and laughed. "Am I getting into your private space?" He inquired with a chuckle. Boomer nodded, and Butch only laughed more. "Well then," He moved closer. Boomer moved his head downwards to avoid getting closer than he already was. "So, what's your…_friend's_ name?" Butch asked as if he was in denial of the thought of Boomer having a friend. Boomer took note of that right away, and looked up through his bangs to see the smug grin on his older brother's face.

Boomer contemplated on whether or not he should tell him. He knew what Butch was truly capable of, and he didn't want people to get hurt in anyway because of him. He felt that he wasn't worth it, but he also didn't want to get beat up triple time today.

"His name's Beck." Butch blinked a few times, mouthing an 'Oh' with a plotting expression. "Beck, eh? Well, when are you bringing him home for the family to meet him?" Butch asked with a smirk twitching at his lips. "Uh, never?" Boomer arched his eyebrow while looking straight at his face. "Oh? Why is that, Boom?" He stared back with a devilish look dancing on his features. Boomer didn't like where this was going.

"Does he go to our school?" Butch started, but before Boomer could reply he answered his own question. "Of course he goes to our school! You can't possibly meet someone who'll give you the time of day outside of school grounds." Butch snorted. Boomer looked at him, uncertain of what to do by this point. "What grade's he in?" He snapped, looking at Boomer with a more serious expression. Boomer was a bit frightened, but realized he didn't know. Well, then again, they had some of the same classes, but he did look older… Maybe he was held back? No, that didn't seem likely; he was probably in the same grade. Not probably, most certainly. "He's in 12th grade, like me." He said hoping to be somewhat close to the truth, if Butch found out, he would probably kill him for lying. _"But it's not like I meant to lie, I just thought I was right. He couldn't hurt me for that, right?" _He thought to himself with worry. In his head he thought up all the bad outcomes, and panicked.

"_Well, I'll just ask Beck tomorrow and I'll correct myself if I was wrong, then Butch can't possibly be mad at me at all!" _Boomer accidentally grinned on the outside, catching Butch's attention again. He simply cupped Boomer's chin upon noticing the look on his face, and pulled him in closer, causing Boomer to blush again. But he was too busy thinking to even care the slightest bit at the moment. He recalled his previous thought; talking to Beck again. As if that was gonna happen. He was smarter than most people gave him credit for. He caught on fast and it didn't take him long before he found his place at school and at home. He knew Beck wasn't going to talk to him again. It was obvious that Beck was just trying to be nice, there was no way that a guy like him could be friends with a guy like Boomer. Juxtaposed, they weren't contrastable. He couldn't be on Beck's level no matter how hard he could try. It would take a miracle. Boomer looked up to see Butch's blank expression, so close up he nearly jumped back.

His brother had serious space issues, how did others put up with him?

Then again, it's obvious that he's doing this on purpose, but what Boomer didn't get was why. Why did he get a kick out of making him uncomfortable? He pushed him away, physically.

Though, that action was clearly done without brain power behind it, he should've known better than to give Butch the reason he'd been looking for all this time. It was his opportunity to strike, and Boomer knew he wasn't going to let this chance pass.

With animalistic reflex, he slammed Boomer hard against the edge of the sink, causing him to keel over from the pain taking over his left side. He looked fearfully at Butch for a second, only to be met face to face with his drawn back fist.

"Who do you think you are, touching me like that?" He growled, just about ready to bring his fist down into Boomer's petrified face.

The second miracle of the day, Brick peeked into the bathroom on his way through the passage way. Giving a brief glance at the situation unfolding before him, he sighed, placing his soft but strong hand on Butch's shoulder. With a bored expression and closed tired eyes, he simply shook his head.

Butch, who still had his arm in battle position, eased up, still a bit tense, and looked at the ground in Brick's direction.

Brick finally opened his eyes, piercing red orbs shining in the dim light as if the sun was reflecting in them. Or, at least to Butch they seemed that way. He never quite understood why, but looking in Brick's eyes always made him nervous and uncomfortable. Maybe it was the unsettling colour; a pair of crimson eyes isn't something you see in your everyday life. Maybe it was the fact that they made him seem more sinister than he actually was; he did have a glare that could make all that was evil cringe and run away, a glare that could freeze Hell over then melt the ice in an on-going cycle. No matter the reason, Butch was never able to look straight into his eyes, not even at his face. And this was something that Boomer was always curios about.

"May I ask why?" Brick spoke, his voice smooth like honey. Butch looked at the ground some more, as if that was his answer. Boomer let out a stream of breath, as he now realized that Butch was further away from his body. He didn't seem like he was going to respond any time soon, so Boomer took matters into his own hands. Why was he being so confident today? He knew he was not acting like he normally would, for he knew his place. He blamed his new found courage on actually talking to someone for the first time, as in, not a one-sided conversation where the other was screaming at him to move from their way. He felt as if he was the popular one, and he was the boss of everything else. "I pushed him, and he got mad."

Both Butch and Brick snapped their heads towards him, expressions of awe. He had spoken loud and clear, and it was _not_ his time to be talking.

Was this _another _thing for him to regret? He sighed, looking down as Brick opened his mouth to speak.

Though, it was probably to tell him where to go, what to do and what he shouldn't do next time.

This would be his 3rd time being beat up today. He winced, eyes closed, expecting the pain.

Again, he just couldn't wait.

* * *

><p><em><strong>-A-i_S-H-i_T-E-R-U- pg3_Bruises_<strong>_


	4. D a y s

Nothing came. He waited for the pain, but nothing came. Slowly, Boomer opened his eyes to come face to face with, well, his brothers. They each looked him questioningly, awaiting some form of response. "Um…" was all he could say, though he almost fell over at the sight of Brick smiling at him. He backed away, confused as Butch grinned too. "Is there something wrong here…?" He got the courage to slowly ask. His brothers just looked at each other; Boomer could feel the mischievous aura in the air. "Nothing's wrong, it's just that you actually had the nerve to speak when not spoken too. At times, I gotta admit you amaze me with your confidence." Brick said, smiling all the while. Without another word he turned away, motioning for Butch to join him. "We aren't gonna hurt you, dad seems to already have done that." He spat with his back turned. And with that, Boomer was alone in the bathroom once more.

"_My mind has yet to be changed; today was a good day." _

* * *

><p>As he followed Brick out, Butch felt nervousness wash over him, as it did whenever Brick was around. He always blamed it on him in general; his appearance, his flaming red hair was down to his shoulders, shaggy and messy, but it didn't seem like it was unintentionally that way. His fiery crimson eyes scared the living hell out of the people he glared at. He was known to be mean, brash, intimidating, but at home he was completely different. He wasn't nearly as harsh, in fact, he was <em>nice<em> and _funny_! For some reason, Butch was afraid of that the most. What if he snapped at him and became just as he was at school? And Butch never liked when Brick talked to him. It's not that he doesn't like him, he really does, and it's just that he is always _nervous_. During most conversations he'd start off worried, but then he would slowly ease into it. Brick always made it easy to melt into him. No, wait! That's not how he intended to say it. He didn't turn into putty in Brick's hand; that sounded too,_ unnatural_ for him to say. He just felt more comfortable after a while; nothing more, nothing less.

After all, they're brothers. He should be able to enjoy his company. Not that he wants to! It's just how family works!

Butch was getting annoyed at his own thoughts, his brain always finding ways to make any subject become about Brick or family; both of which he didn't understand. Brick, well, he already explained Brick and how he had a way of making him feel small and feeble. Family was a whole different story itself.

Family was but a word to him, a meaningless word. (Well, not entirely meaningless, he had Brick… And the blonde one, who he was displeased to admit, was a great listener. Yes, he talked to Boomer when he had nowhere else to go, but that didn't change the fact that he would still beat him to a pulp for what he did.) But other than that, he couldn't care less. He always felt a pang of jealousy and heartbreak when he saw children outside running around with their mom and dad… he wished he had a childhood like that. But no, all that had to go away once the new child was added, unwantedly, to the family.

Yes, once _he_ was born, everything went downhill. Butch's grades dropped, he was surprised that he wasn't held back more than he has been. (It was only once, this year, in his last year of high school. Brick was especially mad at this for some reason. Something along the lines of "I think you should do better but you don't care"? Oh, what'd he know? He wasn't paying attention because he couldn't tear his eyes off of his father who was quickly approaching…)

Though as much as he wanted to, he just couldn't bring himself to completely _regret_ the day _he_ was born, even if he had a pretty good reason to. But the motives behind that was a trip down memory lane, and he was too lazy for that trip. He'd rather spend his time on Present Road, sitting on the couch, watching as Future Boulevard passed by with a bag of chips and a can of Mountain Dew. It was all he could do anyway. Maybe he'd revisit the past for a while…

But why do it now when procrastinating is so much easier? He'll save it for some other time.

For now, he figured he'd ponder, why was he going with Brick to their room, anyway? Well, it wasn't _their_ room, it was Brick's originally, but as kids they would hide out in there and eventually Butch ended up spending countless nights in there with him. They pretty much grew up in that room together, and couldn't break the habit of staying in there whenever and for whatever reason.

Butch still couldn't grasp the kind of relationship he shared with Brick. It was too… random.

He trusted Brick with his life, but he shared most things with Boomer. He didn't even trust Boomer! He just thought Boomer would never tell anyone because he fears him, which is a sort of trust… He trusted that his younger brother would be too afraid to tell anyone for the sake of himself.

Oh well, there are things that you just won't understand in life.

Butch sighed for the umpteenth time on their short trip from the bathroom to the room across the hallway and to the right.

Upon entering Brick closed the door behind them, Butch already taking his place on his official side of the bed. Brick jumped onto the bed with the excitement of a young child, a matching smile on his face as well.

It was always like that, Brick on the right, Butch on the left. It was just how they positioned themselves, whether they were walking, sitting, standing, eating, it was always the same. Maybe that's because Brick has a thing with order? He was a serious neat-freak after all. If there was the tiniest speck of dust in a corner, Brick would clean the whole house. Of course, they had a nice clean house because of him, but Butch could never help but wonder, doesn't he get tired of it? He was going to college soon; he would need all the free time and relaxation he could get before he boarded _that_ ship. But he knew Brick would last, he would fly through it. He was a good student, and he kept that position since Kindergarten. There was no stopping him. Butch sighed again (man he's got to stop doing that) and looked slightly in Brick's direction. Now all that's left is to find out why he was in here…

* * *

><p>As he walked on, continuing home, Beck couldn't help but wonder a few things. Obviously why those guys tried to attack Boomer was one of them, but there were other things amongst that. Why had Boomer tried to run away from him in the first place, regardless of his chance of protection against those guys? Maybe bad things came out of being close with him, and Boomer was only thinking of others… But Beck was good at putting up with the bad side of things; they seemed to follow him where ever he went, anyway. But alas, he still wondered if it was a good idea.<p>

Boomer seemed troubled, like a nervous heap of paranoia and distrust. Beck, in all honesty, didn't know if he could put up with that attribute, but when he saw those Cerulean pools of mystery, he felt he could throw his prejudice aside. Behind those eyes lied very few emotions, but it was all he needed. Fear, sadness, worry, regret, pain and… hope. The last emotion only shone when Beck looked deep enough into his eyes, at the borderline where those cerulean pools became the deep ocean. But he never had the chance to enter that ocean, his little companion would get shy and alert and break away from his gaze, shattering the deep connection he was trying to build.

Most people say it's weird, creepy, disturbing even, but it was the only way Beck really knew how to discover people. He only looked throughout them, and if he saw bitterness, he immediately backed away. He never trusted others like he used to before anymore. He couldn't, not after everything else. Which is why, as Boomer caught onto very quickly, he stayed mostly on his own at school, home, anywhere. He wasn't a people-person, and he definitely wasn't people's ideal type. He preferred solitude; himself being the only thing he could trust. The autumn air was becoming crisp, and he could see his breath. It surprisingly wasn't cold however, or maybe he was just warm. Most people were in light jackets, scarfs; occasionally he'd see hats and mitts as well. He sighed, feeling more out of place than before, being the only one with a long sleeve shirt and a scarf hanging loosely on his shoulders. He shoved his hands back into his pockets and continued on, he had a few places to stop before he could arrive home, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get some thinking done…

**A N O N**

He arrived home, finally. Removing his shoes by the doorway, he stepped into his house. It was dark, a bit dusty as well. He would clean up a bit later, but for now he had to put the groceries away. It was small chores like this that would prove to become quite troublesome, especially when he already had schoolwork to worry about. But each and every time, he'd remind himself; this was the path he chose for himself anyway. He had to put up with it, to prove to himself and everyone that ever doubted him. He was strong, he could take care of himself, and he was also very grateful that the school provided him with enough money to take care of the necessities he required, and all it took was the principal to buy his little sob story of being taken away by _"Scary men"_ when he was little and removed from his parents. The only truth he fed them was _"being unable to trust, so he lived alone and learned to care for himself,"_ and they threw money at him whenever they felt he needed more. Of course, he wasn't going to be an idiot and blow it off on useless things. He was smarter, and actually never used the money on luxuries. (Unless of course he worked hard, he would then hesitate to treat himself.) But nevertheless, he was doing fine, no matter how much they asked if he needed a roommate, the answer would stay the same; A big fat **HELL NO**. He was uncomfortable with the idea of a random stranger living with him, having access to every single personal item he may have. It was just ridiculous! But they were caring and sympathetic people, they trusted he could manage on his own and that is exactly what he planned to do; manage. He sighed putting the box of pizza on the countertop. He decided abruptly that it would make a perfect dinner for tonight. Not that he really had much of a choice. If he was feeling lazy, it would be pizza since it's the easiest thing to prepare. If he could actually get off of his ass, he'd make something a bit more… _tasteful._

He slipped into more comfortable clothing. (Who would want to walk around the house in skinnies and a scarf?) Recalling his thoughts of a young blonde, he sat on the couch, the aroma of the famous Italian dish engulfed his home, and his stomach began to rumble. _"I wonder who he lives with… There _was_ a bit of a commotion going on beyond those walls, I wonder what it was all about." _Though it was true that the amount of noise resonating from within his residence was quite the disturbance, it wasn't any of his business. _"Though, he did seem reluctant to enter…" _His curiosity continued to better him, and he lay pondering for a while until the scent of the pizza grew strong, stronger than it should've been normally. Without a second thought to it, he dashed to his kitchen heading straight to the oven. "No matter what I can never cook this stuff perfectly, without any problems." He complained out loud, as if talking down at the pizza.

After the mandatory 5-10 minute wait for the food to cool down, he sat around the dining table- dinner in hand- eating in silence alone.

Just like every other night.

* * *

><p>Butch was not one to cry, but he wasn't ashamed to let his tears fall every once in a while, prior to a good enough reason.<p>

Now may or may not be one of those times.

"I got accepted into the school I really wanted to go to, this is a big deal to me. I really want to go; it's been my lifelong dream!" Brick exclaimed happily. It's like the bigger his smile grew the deeper Butch's frown became. His big brother would be leaving him forever. This news was not virtuous to him. Although Butch loved to be independent, brash and untouchable, he still had some form of guidance helping him stay on track. And this guidance was his older sibling, who was always there. "Isn't this great? Even dad said he was proud, you don't hear that often." He continued to boast. Butch put on the most deceiving smile he could, and nodded sheepishly. _"Yeah, it's so great that you're leaving me behind in a place like this."_ He looked away, not wanting his brother to catch his unhappy expression.

As Brick continued to uncharacteristically butt-bounce at the edge of his bed, Butch couldn't help but remain facing the opposite side of the room, away from him.

This was, by far, the worst day of his life.

**_-A-i_S-H-i_T-E-R-U- pg4_Days__**


	5. G i r l s

The bell rang with an annoying chime. Blossom sighed as she struggled somewhat to pull out her textbook. As much as she enjoyed school, the homework was beginning to be a bit much. She sashayed to her next class, grateful that it was directly across the hall from her locker. She had no worries of being late.

"Oh, Blossom!" A singsong voice called out from God knows where. Stopping dead in her tracks, the red clad girl scoffed, turning to face her caller.

"How's the studying, _Blossom_?" Two puffed up pigtails popped into the scene. The golden yellow outfit nearly blinded her as Princess stepped out of the shadows. She was so close to making it to class on time. Blossom sighed in annoyance at the sight before her, wanting nothing more than to leave her presence.

"What do you want, _Dana_?" Blossom spewed out her name the same way. Princess stuck up her nose in an arrogant cartoony way. The red-clad girl glared, annoyed by the cockiness provided daily by this ginger, puffy-haired brat of a student.

Though, she wasn't really a student now, was she?

Her _daddy_ bought her place in Westville College, just to make her life a living nightmare. But she couldn't say much. Dana had all the staff and students at the school in the palm of her hands. If she dared to open her mouth about the problems that she faced with this spoiled child, she would find herself at the bottom of every University and career list available within miles of the country. With this, she chose to remain smarter, and keep her mouth shut.

Dana bitterly gnawed at her bottom lip, glaring hard at the amaranth-pink orbs across from her.

"It's _Princess_ to you, wench," she snapped, "and don't you forget it." The nasally voice nauseated Blossom to an extreme level, but she kept her poise and brushed the non-existent dirt off of her clean ironed blouse. With a determined and confident stature, she gave a subtle and sassy lip.

"I'm no wench, and would appreciate it if you _don't _undermine me." She snapped back at her, a flame sparking behind every word. Dana stood -mouth agape- in shock and disbelief. She began, opting for an argument, but soon stopped herself, admitting defeat in this battle, just once.

"Fine, Ms. Prissy," she gave in, all in all keeping her snobby rich attitude. Blossom basked in the glory of victory as Dana put up her white flag. "But I'd head to homeroom if I were you. You don't want to be late now, do you?" The sarcasm dripped puddles on the tiled flooring. Blossom's face dimmed and slumped. With the sudden realization of time and place, Blossom threw her bag around her shoulder and started a low hastened jog towards her room.

With a smug smirk of triumph, Dana stalked her way back to class. Of course she had to have the last laugh.

* * *

><p>"Just a reminder, the book report is due on the 30th, do not hesitate to bring it in earlier- though I doubt that anyone will- and enjoy your next class." The strong voice of a male teacher preached out to his students. As Blossom collected her books she caught sight of two giddy girls heading in her direction. Unable to choke back a friendly smile, Blossom shoved her things neatly in her satchel and turned to them with welcoming arms. "Class is <em>so<em> boring!" Pink curly hair bounced around exaggeratedly as the young girl approached. The taller girl followed suit, less actively. "Tell me about it," she agreed. "Who needs to learn how to write and read anyway?" She said nonchalantly, striking a laugh into the mouths of her very close friends. Blossom looked at her two friends with subtle features. "I'm pretty sure no one does, Meredith." She sighed. In a quick reflex Meredith's eyes shot to her. "Stop calling me that! I wanna be called Lola, I hate my name." She said with a whining voice that made her allies roll their eyes. "You call Jocelyn _"Star"_ so I wanna be "_Lola_" from now on." She whimpered and bragged like a child. Just when Blossom thought she knew who the most mature of her immature friends were, they mix things up again.

"Fine," Blossom snorted, and turned to the door. "Let's go."

Her two friends huddled slightly together as she stepped off, squeezing their hands tightly below their chins in hopes of a change. Blossom glanced back at them with a smirk as she slowed her pace. The looks on their faces were incredible, but she decided not to toy with them any longer.

With a slow, drawn out movement of the lips and tongue, Blossom breathed out a monotone "_Lola" _and regained her walk at an upbeat pace. Lola and Star squealed behind her, shuffling in _too _high-heels to catch up.

* * *

><p>"Who goes shopping directly after school?" She complained, her jade eyes growing heavy and sunken into her head. "I do!" Bubbles chirped, dragging her half-dead sibling through hectic crowds. "And besides, we have to meet Blossom here anyway." Buttercup snatched her hand away, stopping dead in her tracks. "Blossom's tutor class is <em>not<em> inside the mall, Bubbles." Buttercup was being skeptic, staring her blue eyed sibling straight in the face. Bubbles turned a light shade of pink, smiling innocently like a child whose hands were caught in the cookie jar. "Blossom's class isn't in the mall, but the cute shoes I wanted are!"

Buttercup found herself being dragged deeper into the crowd.

"How about you get the shoes, and I get the sister?" Buttercup suggested, bringing Bubbles to a full stop. A look of fear took over her face. "Who's gonna tell me if I look nice in them, then?" "…How about self-judgement?" "I think not." Buttercup groaned.

At this point her blue sister would drain her of sanity. Bubbles smiled brightly as they progressed onward to her favourite store.

By the time they had met up with Blossom, Bubbles had 3 bags full of clothing, and Buttercup had no energy.

**_-A-i_S-H-i_T-E-R-U- pg5_Girls__**

* * *

><p><strong>OKAY! HERE'S A SHORT ONE. Sorry about that, I'm just…. Very out of it as of late. So, I wrote as much as I could, and this took me like… 4 or 5 months just for the first half. The block's been bad guys…. Really bad. But to make up for it, first andor second people to review get a One-shot of their choice, to help me with my writer's block. **

**Sorry about this. Really. **

**BYE!**


	6. It's Official

**Hey! Long time, no see!**

**I just wanted to inform you that I got my results!**

**_A-i_S-H-i_T-E-R-U_ is becoming a manga officially!**

**So, I probably won't continue writing it here, but the manga will be a continuation instead! Finally!**

**Also, I friend of mine is supposed to teach me how to use a software called Blender a bit better, so hopefully I will also be making a 3D type movie!**

**It will either be _RUINED_, or it will be something I've been planning to create for a long while. It's a new story called _GLOWWORM_. I'm not gonna go into detail since it's not released, and I wanna get some things done before it's shown to the public.**

**All in all, thank you for reading! The manga will be posted to my DeviantArt as pages, and to Youtube as a video. The Youtube one will probably be animated.**

**Hope to see you all there! Thank you!**

**BYE!**


	7. LOST MY STUFF

**HEY GUYS LONG TIME NO SEE...AGAIN...again...?**

**Well, I've been gone for a very,very long time... I haven't updated Ruined, Eradicate and Depression of the Young Literati because I got a virus! **

**YAY! MY COMPUTER CRASHED! :D**

**And no, I did not die. **

**I lost all my stuff. The computer wouldn't even turn on, so we had to factory reset it. That means that it clears the whole computer and sets it back to when you first got it. ie. FRESH OUT THE BOX. **

**So yeah, I lost everything. Microsoft Word included. I have to reinstall everything! :D **

**Recently, I got settled in... But I'm highly afraid since my Norton Virus thingy decided to expire too. **  
><strong>Although this has happened before, I don't really do things that lead to viruses... So I hope I don't get one any time soon! I shouldn't, actually, unless Youtube has a trojan. -_- doubting face is doubting.<strong>

**So please sit tight! New chapter of Eradicate is on its way, Ruined will be drawn alongside Aishiteru (Of course I'm still gonna work on the Reboot on FF) **

**This really did piss me off though, especially since I had one of the longest chapters of Ruined written and 99% done. -_-**

**Aishiteru Manga is being put together, you can find it on my DeviantArt and you can find the Ruined and Aishiteru Anime Openings on Youtube. **

**Links won't be up as they are not uploaded, but when they are you can see them! **

**Thank you so much! **

* * *

><p><em><strong>Do you like VocaloidUtau? **_

_**Please visit my channel! I've started a UTAU-HUMAN PROJECT! I make UTAU sound HUMAN! **_

_**There are only Two videos in the UTAU-HUMAN PROJECT. One is an introduction, the other is practice! **_

_**YOUTUBE/user/utaitekowareta (Kimochi Miyako on Youtube!) Link is on profile! **_

**HAPPY HOLIDAYS! **


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